The Hunger Games: Annie Cresta's Story
by HungerGameees
Summary: Annie Cresta was once an immaculate and happy girl. Born and raised from District 4, she had a bright future ahead of her. But that all changed after the day she was reaped, the suffering she was put through as a tribute from the 70th Annual Hunger Games. No one expected her to be crowned a victor. But things have changed for the poor, mad girl back home.


Annie Cresta; Reaping.

The sound of waves clanking on the shore woke me from my sleep. It was a calm and peaceful day in District 4, I opened the curtains blinding me with daylight, the beach blooming with pretty blues and skies of faded pink and purple. My eyes are adjusting to the brightness and than I focus on the hundreds of peace keepers swarming around like bees. This isn't normal at all. I'm than examining the banners hanging on the walls of a platform with microphones and multiple TV screens. Suddenly it hit me, today is the day of the 70th Annual Hunger Games Reaping.

The calm, peaceful day slowly turned into chaos as I opened the mahogany, brown door. My mother was rushing around trying to get everything ready and perfect. My two twin sisters sitting in the hall way, crouched down and crying silently as this was there first ever reaping, this moment has haunted them ever since they could speak. I slowly kneel down and hold their innocent, pale faces as a stream of tears rolls down my hand. I've never been good with words so I don't even attempt to make them cheer up. I just find myself sitting there with mixed emotions, holding back the tears flooding in my eyes. Every time I try to speak up, I seem to choke on my own words.

My mother swiftly walks over reassuring us "Skye, Poppy this is your first year, you have no tesserae and your names only in the bowl once. Annie, its okay just another year that will pass. Now girls please get ready, we only have a few hours, try and look your best." My mothers right, she always has been. People have there name in their more than 30 times from tesserae, supplying them with extra needs that we already have. It makes me sick just thinking of those children that put their name in for tesserae just for the luxury of other goods. It's not they were starving or need those things. Not like the lower districts of Panem.

I slowly stand helping both Skye and Poppy to their feet. My mother has laid out a lovely blue dress that ties tight around my stomach and flows down to my knees with little sequins sewed on. There's something about this dress, it reminds me of my mother. Those days when as a family we would all run down to the beach, have picnics and sing a song my father had taught us. The days when life was perfect, nothing could interrupt or ruin those moments as they were more than just memories. They were cherished and stayed with me all those days until he was murdered by the Capitol for stealing a new gadget they had recently designed. I can't remember briefly - maybe it was because the whole year was a blur or they never told me for reasons or maybe I just never really asked- All I heard was that it was some kind of machine that made you forget things you told it to erase from your brain. I never questioned why he did it, the only question that repeated in my head was why didn't they just turn him into an Avox - A person that rebelled against the Capitol punishing them by cutting of their tongue and making them into servants to serve the tributes- Whatever my father was trying to achieve or known must of been something terrible for them to do such a thing. Probably not though, the Capitol are terrible people and would kill the innocent and harmless without thinking twice, just like _some_ of these kids. The Capitol people need entertainment so they use us. 2 tributes from 12 districts every year go into an arena and fight for survival. 24 go in and only 1 comes out.

I step out of my room and find little Skye still worried, looking up at me with deep blue eyes and fragile face.

"Skye, its going to be okay." I manage to get out.

"You look gorgeous. I wish I looked like you or could wear something as pretty as this" She says touching the tips of my mothers beautiful dress.

"Are you kidding me?" I say with a slight smile. "Skye, you look beautiful, you always do. Did you know this was mothers dress. When we all used to picnic down on the beach, when we sung those songs and watched the sun go down." I say , my voice croaking up.

"I-I thought it looked familiar" She says trembling than letting go of the fabric. "Like it?" She twirls a few times, showing of her dress before she gets to dizzy and plonks back on the floor. We both sit there laughing, distracted from what will be happening in the next few hours.

"You know you girls remind me so much of your father" A familiar voice appears behind me.

"Mum" Skye springs up, giving her a hug.

"Mum, you don't mind me using this dress. With all the-" I say breaking my self off, mum doesn't like it when I mention dad or the past. She hasn't been able to forget him, I sometimes wake up at night hearing her cry from the dreams she has. "I just wouldn't want it to get ruined" I say.

"Don't be silly, I wouldn't have picked it out if I wasn't sure. You look lovely." I can hear in her voice the mentioning of my father has caused her pain.

I walk down the hallway with Skye and Poppy and head towards the town square. As we reach the crowds of people, two peace keepers separate us telling me I have to go line up with the people my age. There's really no point in fighting, so I just tell the girls I'll meet them after we get our names put down. When I'm at the front of the line the peace keeper stabs my finger with a sharp device and places my bloody finger on the page underneath my name.

I scan the place for Skye and Poppy. There's no way I'm going to find them with all the people here. I shouldn't of left there side. That's when Cynthia our District 4 escort takes the stage. I quickly make my way through and surround myself with others from my District, all wishing they don't hear their own name or their loved ones announced. And me, hoping I don't hear the names Poppy, Skye, Finnick, Xavier or Zinnia.

"Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favour." Cynthia says, projecting her voice into the speaker. "Well, welcome to the 70th Annual Games" She adds. "Now everyone, turn your attention that way" She asks us pointing to the TV's. "And please watch carefully".

Its the same video every year. Showing us of the dark days, how district 13 was obliterated, how the Capitol rules over us and what happens if you don't abide by their rules. I mostly tune out to it all. As I've seen it several times and its all nonsense, trying to scare us, trying to come up with reasons to show why they had introduced The Hunger Games. When we all know - well most of us - it's all for the Capitols entertainment.

"Well, isn't that great." Cynthia has a wide grin on her face. Her voice is odd though, it sounds high pitched and bright. Though probably all the Capitol people talk like that, just like their outfits. They find it attractive and stylish. Though really they look ridiculous to me, to everyone other than themselves. Her body is a colourless white covered in bright makeup of purples and blues. She's dressed in gaudy clothes and covered in jewellery from head to toe, with her hair straight, frizzy and sorted into different lengths, dyed with a mixture of colours. Her nails are long, painted decoratively. I can hardly make out but from the TV screens but it looks like her eyes are a yellowy orange on the left and light blue on the right. Her high heel shoes are so high I wonder how she is getting around in them. I feel sorry for her though, each year having to travel and escort around with the tributes, than having to see them die live on television. The next minute she's tapping on the microphone, getting our attention. "Now as always, girls first." Cynthia has her hand in the bowl of names, swirling them around trying to build tension. "Ahem." She clears her throat than read the name from the bowl. "Annie Cresta."

I stand there frozen, unable to move. I was trying to figure out if I was imagining it, though my name and Cynthia's voice keep repeating in my head. _Annie Cresta. Annie Cresta. Annie Cresta. _Everyone's looking at me with sorrowful eyes, looking relieved it wasn't their name. The peacekeepers take my arm and walk me towards the stage, I hear my sisters screaming my name there obviously crying because I hear the tremble in their voice. I continue onto the stage and stand next to Cynthia her face glooming and I realise she's not like I imagined, her eyes at looking into mine and I can tell she feels sorry for me. I can tell she doesn't find the games exciting let alone entertaining just by the look she's giving me. Cynthia looks back at the bowl and this time she picks up the name within a second. "For a boy tribute, we have..." She pauses for a moment and reads the name. "Xavier Tylt." My knees are beginning to feel weak, I guess the odds aren't exactly in my favour. Xavier's been my friend ever since I could remember, I feel the tears in my eyes. I'm trying to fight back as this was live TV and I didn't want to come out weak but I couldn't help it, I had to go against my closest friend and I couldn't help it, I had to go against my closet frien knowing both of us could be killed in the next few weeks. As he approaches the stage I can't help but run into his arms, he is about to return the hug before a peacekeepers separates us, making us stand either side of Cynthia.

"Here we are, our tributes from District 4." Cynthia says in her odd accent. Than the TV's and cameras cute off and I'm left standing there, hundreds of people starring at me. Both familiar and unknown faces. Never to see again


End file.
